Star-Crossed
by noahczerny
Summary: Newt and Cara were once inseparable. That was before the Maze Trials, before he disappeared for an entire year until they would meet again, when the first girl arrives in the Box. Starting over as strangers, Newt takes Cara under his wing. All he wants is for her to feel safe around him and the other boys. All she wants is a way out of the Glade.
1. WICKED

Newt remembered everything. He was so small when the Tall Man brought him to this place. He remembered being secured tightly to the back seat of a shiny, black vehicle, peering out through the tinted windows to see raging men and women on the other side of the high fences that surrounded the facility. Their bloodshot eyes were filled with something like anger, madness even. They screamed at him, at the vehicle. Their words blurred into nothing.

But he could understand the sincerity, the rage drilled so deep into their voices, and he pressed his fingers in his ears to block them out. Once inside the compound, a large concrete wall rose upwards upon greeting him and the Tall Man steered the vehicle inside the building, slowing the car to a stop. Newt had no luggage only the clothes on his back and the toy soldier he clung to in his fist.

He remembered how the tears stained his mother's cheeks as she draped him in a warm jacket, his favourite blue and red striped shoes. Shakily, she handed him the toy soldier; her last gift to him. The Tall Man unbuckled him and gestured for him to get out. None too kindly, either. The world around him suddenly looked larger. He was boxed in by grey, dirty walls on every side. There was no exit now, and the door that had ushered them in was gone. The only way was forward.

Soon, the Tall Man left his side and Newt was confronted by a middle aged woman, her white lab coat buttoned securely. Grey strands of hair hairs poked out of her ponytail and freckles dotted her nose as she bent down to greet him. She gave him a calculated smile but there was no kindness in it. She had icy blue eyes and she smelled like fresh mint.

She shook his hand. He felt safer seeing a kind-looking woman opposed to the mean man who'd taken him from his mother, from his old bedroom. From his home. "Come along now, Newt" she had spoken so comfortably, guiding him through yet another door deeper into the strange building.

He remembered walking through white corridors and crossing several rooms with glass windows that stretched across the wall. He remembered seeing young faces and curious eyes staring right at him through those windows. Seeing all their faces must have been as confusing for him as it was for them.

Now, ten years old, Newt was on the other side of those windows. At first, Newt had his nose pressed against the fresh pages of an open book. Reading was a comfort to him whenever he was given the opportunity. Nothing could break his concentration once he opened a new book.

This time, though, it was a high pitched scream that caused his attention to drift elsewhere.

Newt stood from his seat, pushed through the group until he was at the front, looking straight at the small girl kicking and screaming as a guard struggled with her. She looked as old as he was and she wore a pretty dress with a floral pattern and shiny slippers. She dropped to her knees and made to run and the guard chased after her.

The frustration was obvious as he took deep, slow breaths. Eventually, the guard caught her and lifted her up until she was over his shoulder and he carried her like that the rest of the way down the corridor. Her shrill screams still carried through the halls long after she was gone. Some of the other kids laughed. Some made jokes until the teacher instructed them to return to their seats.

It was a whole three days before he saw her again. Like the first time he'd seen her, another guard stood over her, ushering her into the classroom. Her shoulders slouched and she kept her face hidden behind her mass of dark chocolate hair. Like the other kids, she'd traded in her pretty floral dress for the plain clothes that were assigned to them; navy blue skirt with a white shirt. She fiddled with the buttons, finding discomfort in the way the clothes fit her.

"Children, this is Cara. Everybody make her welcome." The teacher announced. He gestured for Cara to take her seat, scanning the class for empty spaces. "There, right there beside Newt." At the sound of his name he looked up. His eyes widened and he was certain his cheeks flushed bright red when he saw Cara walking over to him. The metal screeched against the cold floor as she pulled the chair out, sat down next to him.

She made sniffing sounds and he wondered if she was crying. His eyes darted from the teacher to rest on her instead. Her hands trembled in her lap. He remembered how bad he felt on his first day. He too had tried to make a run for it, only unlike her he'd succeeded. He stopped once the guard pointed a Stun Gun in his face and his expression morphed into that of fear. He hardly spoke to anybody and when he was called upon in the classes he pretended he didn't hear them.

All the time he kept repeating, "I want my mummy. Where's my mummy" and he was met with anxious fidgeting and fake promises like "Mummy is coming soon. For now let's do the work in class, shall we?" He couldn't begin to imagine what Cara was feeling. Who she was taken from or where she was taken from.

"Hey..." he whispered, leaning closer to her. "Cara..." he continued. Still no reply.

It was a whole week before she decided to speak to anyone. It was lunch time. She was sitting at a far table all by herself in the cafeteria. Newt scrunched up his face when he reached the front of the line. The lady at the counter buried the spoon deep into what looked like yellow goop and he guessed it tasted as bad as it looked.

He spotted her, not hesitating to pull out a chair across from her. "Hi, Cara," he greeted. Her gaze drifted to him. Her brow furrowed but she said nothing. She swirled her spoon in the same yellow goop on her own tray, not too keen on eating it either.

He cleared his throat. "Let's play a game."

Cara looked directly at him. Something in her eyes lit up.

"What...What kind of game?" she asked.

"Both of us have to eat one spoonful of the food from hell without spitting it out. What do you say?"

He challenged her, wearing a sly grin on his lips as he waited for Cara to reply.

She breathed out. "Okay."

She dug her spoon into the yellow goop, filling it to the brim until it oozed over the edges of the spoon. He smiled and did exactly as she did. With their elbows on the cold, hard surface of the table, they held their spoons close to their mouths. Close enough to breathe in the bitter, salty smell of the goop. He saw hesitation as she cringed away from the spoon.

"You can't back out now, Cara. Come on. On the count of three" he said, faking a serious voice.

"One."

They braced themselves for the worst.

"Two."

They lifted the spoons.

"Three."

Newt shut his eyes but it did no good. Although he couldn't see the vile substance enter his mouth he could still taste it, feel the burn as it slid down his throat and into his stomach. He coughed and felt around for a glass of water but found none. The taste still remained on his tongue and no amount of water could wash it off. When he opened his eyes he met the girlish giggling of Cara.

She clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing louder than she meant to, than she actually wanted to. He narrowed his dark eyes at her and opened his mouth to speak but formed no words. That was when he saw the spoon on her tray, untouched and the food uneaten. His face flushed again because of her, this time out of embarrassment.

"Did you really think I would fall for that? That stuff looks disgusting, no way am I going to eat it" she said after several minutes of fitful laughter.

He scoffed. "You little...You'll pay for that" he said

"But you started the game!" she reminded.

"I'll get you!" he shouted, his tone still playful and as he rose from his seat she had already starting sprinting for the door.

Newt chased after her, enjoying the thrill of the hunt just as much as she did. He was much faster than her, and he ignored the stares the staff directed at them as he hurried after her around corners and long passageways. She wasn't that far from him now, and she squealed when he finally caught her wrist.

He released her hand only to wrap his arms around her and tickle her. His revenge ended quickly as she jabbed her elbow into his stomach, forcing him back with a grunt. He placed a hand over his stomach where the mild pain was.

She folded her arms defiantly. "That's what you get for messing with me, Newt." The sound of his name on her lips caught his attention.

He smiled coyly, enjoying it maybe too much.

"Well...I'll get you back for that too," he said, none too convincingly because she almost laughed right there in his face again. "I'm being serious. I will do it," he insisted

"So you'll hit a girl? I doubt you could"

"No, I won't. But I'll find another way. You won't even see it coming."

She rolled her eyes, grinning as she skipped past him. Out of spite, he put his foot out and it connected with hers. She toppled over and landed on her hands and knees. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes widening and her mouth agape in shock.

He too was just as surprised. He didn't mean for her to fall, really, he didn't. He was already bending over to help her stand when the guard approached from behind them. Newt looked across the passageway, one hand gripping Cara's arm.

"You there!" the guard raised his voice at Newt. He felt smaller now when the guard, black-clad, came to stand over him with his hand outstretched. "Walk with me," he said. His voice was rough, angry.  
Newt lowered his head, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes sir," he replied softly.

He looked back one last time to see Cara brushing the dirt from her knees. She looked just as anxious as he felt. She waved. He waved back and it was met with the guard's hand pushing him forward. They walked in silence for what felt like ten, maybe fifteen minutes. He was facing a white door to a room he'd never set foot in before and he wasn't too eager to see what was inside.

The guard knocked a fist on the door. Someone inside, pulled on the knob to peek through the small gap. The other's eyes drifted down to Newt who looked up at him curiously. The door was pulled all the way open, and again, Newt was pushed inside. The walls were a dull grey just like the rest of the building. The room was empty all except for the white carpet and two chairs planted opposite each other.

The new stranger, a young man in brown pants and a black shirt spoke, "Thank you for escorting him. You can be on your way."

"Now, where were we? Ah yes. Newt, please take a seat."

The man sat and Newt sat on the chair opposite him, directly facing him. The man watched him for several moments while Newt swung his legs back and forth, watching his feet dangle as he did so. His voice was soft as he spoke up, "I'll apologise to Cara. I didn't mean to hurt her, we were only playing." A worried look crossed his features.

The man took note of this and scribbled a few words down in a small book.

"It's quite alright, Newt. We understand that you're only a child. It's right for you to want to play, to have friends, but you must not forget your purpose here at our facility," the man responded sternly.

"Sir?" Newt asked.

The man brought his chair closer.

"Newt, like Cara, like the rest of the children here, you are important. Your full understanding and cooperation is vital for what our organisation is doing. It's vital that you don't forget this or there will be consequences. As I said before children play and children fight and we cannot accept that behaviour here."

Newt fidgeted in his seat. He couldn't meet the man's eyes.

"I'll apologise to Cara and I won't fight again. And I'm sorry for making you worry."

The man smiled at Newt's compliance, gave a sigh of relief. "I knew you'd do the right thing. We've been monitoring you closely. You're a very intelligent boy, Newt. You'll be an excellent asset in the future, I know you will."

Newt didn't comprehend what the man was saying. "Thank you, sir" he said before he was allowed to leave.

Not far from the room, he spotted Cara wide eyed and biting on a fingernail and waiting for him.

He was silent approaching her and they walked side by side back to the cafeteria. She kept glancing over at him, wondering he was so quiet.

"Are you mad at me?" she worried, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," he told her.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it," she said.

He didn't say anything else to her. He was quiet and it confused her, but she said nothing. She wasn't the reason why. He was lost in his thoughts, the words swirling around inside his head. _You're an asset...We've been monitoring you closely..._He couldn't get a grasp of what those words meant. What they should mean to him. He wouldn't know for a long time.

* * *

**author's note**: I only own the character Clara and some original plot lines.  I haven't decided yet if I'll mix it in with the storyline of the books yet, depending on how the first few chapters go. This is my first story that I've written in a long time so please be nice to me. I hope you guys enjoyed it c:


	2. Goodbyes

Newt was sly, stealing glances at Clara. He could get lost in doing so, watching the way her brow furrowed when she didn't understand the words or couldn't solve a difficult equation. It was a moment like this when he'd catch her looking across to him as he scribbled the answers down into his own textbook.

Newt wouldn't care and he'd slide the book over for her to get a good look. She was struggling. He just knew it. He was sitting two seats behind her in the row to her left. Unlike Clara, the answers called out to him, and he was writing out the words whispered into his ear. If he'd been sitting beside like he normally did, he would've passed that whisper onto Clara too.

He resumed the act of studying whilst he tore a blank piece of paper from the end pages of his book. He scribbled the words quickly then continued to scrunch it up, cautious of the loud crackling sounds that came with it. The teacher, with his eyes glued onto his computer, did not notice the ball of paper flying across the room, landing with a soft knock against her head. Instantly, she whipped her head to face him.

Newt grinned, waved at her and his expression saddened when she turned her back to him once again. The second time, the scrap paper landed on her text, startling her to stop what she was doing, what thoughts she was jotting down into her book. Her shoulders tensed as she furiously flattened the paper, wrote something, and fired it back at him.

_What is it? _She wrote.

_Why won't you notice me? I can barely breathe without you, _was his reply. He swore she rolled her eyes at him.

_Stop being so dramatic._

_Stop pretending like you don't miss me too. Me and my brain. _He grinned.

_You're a child! _The paper smacked him in the face.

She'd thrown it harder than she meant to, not bothering to contain her girlish laughter. Heads turned. She apologised, resumed to do her schoolwork. The way her back turned away, blocking any view of her face, told him that was the last of it. She wouldn't write back again.

Still, he was bored and enjoying the little distraction he'd invented for himself. He threw the paper across the room. It landed in her lap and immediately her fingers went about unfolding the paper. The urgency in her actions showed him she was enjoying this too. He was so sure of the smile spreading onto her lips. Even more so that he was the reason for that smile.

_Don't complain. It's one of the reasons you love me so much, isn't it? See you after class. _

A bell rang. Newt raced for the door. The hallway was empty except for the occasional staff or security guard passing through. He pressed his back to the wall waiting for Cara and when she emerged, he stood blocking her path, their faces inches apart. "You're a pain," she said as she stepped past him. Newt scoffed.

"Your string of insults never ends, does it?" he said, "Sometimes I pretend you say nicer things to me. Like 'Newt, you're such a good friend' or 'when did you get so handsome?'".

"You would love that, wouldn't you?"

"Very much."

"Bye, Newt. I'm going to my room," she replied.

He followed after her. His hand clutched onto her wrist, his grip loose enough to not hurt her. He stared down at her as he sighed. She wiggled her wrist but Newt wouldn't budge.

_Girls are weird, _he thought. _Why is she making it her life mission to hurt me? _

His eyes narrowed in on her eyes, her nose, and finally on her lips. He wanted, more than anything in the world, to kiss her. Just once. He wanted to know how it felt to kiss someone he liked. In the corner of his eye he spotted something black. It's red eye watching him. A camera. He clenched his jaw.

"What's wrong, Newt?"

"Will you go somewhere with me? Just for a moment."

He led her through the passageways and through a white door leading to an old, grey stairwell. Mostly, everyone used the elevators so Newt was certain nobody would find them there. Not even the cameras. They stood in silence for several minutes.

He paced back and forth, taking in deep breaths. Suddenly confronted with the situation, he'd lost his cool and he needed to calm down. Cara had never seen him so worried before. Where he sat on the closest step, she joined him, placed her hand on his knee. Gave it a small squeeze.

"Don't do that," he told her.

"I'm not allowed to touch you?"

"It means something different to me than it would to you."

Where the palm of her hand rested, filling him with warmth, he placed his hand on top of hers. His thumb traced her knuckles in a slow pattern.

"It's just a hand, Newt" she said, her voice soft.

He turned to face her. He looked down at their hands, now entwined, and he smiled coyly.

"We should hold hands more often. I like the way it feels. I like the way you make me feel."

The sudden seriousness in his voice frightened her and she withdrew her hand and she folded her arms. Newt had moved closer to her as he spoke, his voice calm as if it was a simple question.

"Cara, do you feel the same way about me?" he paused, "Do you want to be more than just friends? Because I think I want to be more."

His hands cupped her face. He was lost in her rich green eyes, her long dark lashes, her rosy lips. Whether she felt the same way or not, Newt moved in. He closed his eyes as he meant to kiss her, his first kiss, when he heard feet shuffling from above. Someone was coming down the stairs, and very quickly.

The stranger was behind them and Newt looked back to see Minho with his eyebrows raised and giving them weird looks.

"What are you guys talking about?" Minho asked.

"Uhh...Schoolwork," Newt answered far too quickly and it was met with a light laugh from his friend.

"Sure you were. Have fun talking about your _schoolwork._ It really does warm my heart." Minho moved past them and left through the door. Newt panicked momentarily.

_Had Minho heard everything? How long was he up there? Listening in. _

Newt waited until he was sure Minho had left and only then did he feel safe to speak again. He stood in the doorway, his hands deep in his pants pockets. What romantic gesture he'd been planning was now ruined. The look in Cara's eyes was too much for him. They glistened with fresh tears daring to drip down her cheeks.

"Please, Newt. Don't say another word" she said, her voice firm as she stepped forward, her hand reaching towards the door knob. He side-stepped. Blocked her path.

"Don't do this. Don't walk away from me, not like this" he replied. She shook her head slowly. "You're right. Cara, you're right. I shouldn't have said anything. But please don't go right now. Please."

He was shaking. His eyes wide in fear. His breaths were short and quick, slowed only when her small hand connected with his. She stayed like this for a moment, staring down at their hands and frowning.

"Newt, it's not as if I don't feel anything because I do. I'm...I'm confused and uncertain with you and touching you like this only makes me feel worse," she said. No more words were exchanged between them, and Newt moved aside to let her pass. The feeling of her soft, smooth flesh still lingered on his hand and he wished only that he could feel it again.

He couldn't sleep that night. When he closed his eyes, he was filled with doubt. The anxiety claimed him and wrapped around him like the bed sheets he slept in. He tossed, turned and eventually he threw the blanket aside. The rough fabric did nothing to soothe him and send him to sleep.

He slipped on an old tee shirt and sat at his desk. Under the orange glow of the table lamp, he fiddled with some black strands of fabric, weaving them together as a band. He liked the pattern. He hoped Cara would like it more and accept the bracelet as an apology gift. He was out of ideas.

He thought of Cara; if she was still awake at that moment, studying to get her mind off him, to stop thinking about him. A small part of him wished she was. He didn't care how selfish that made him seem.

For two whole days they acted like strangers. They passed each other in the halls but said nothing. And in class, he sat far from here, surprising even some of the other people in the room. He was giving her the space he thought she wanted.

In the hallway, walking to his next lesson, he saw two guards striding towards him. Their movements were precise, almost robotic in the way they moved together. They stopped in front of him. "Come with us," the taller one on the left spoke, and together they hoisted him by his arms, guiding him down the rest of the hallway and around corners. They reached a white door. Newt remembered that place and he remembered the last conversation he had there.

Once inside, the guards pushed him in and shut the door behind him. He imagined they barricaded the door with their large bodies should he try to run. But why would he have to run. "Hello, Newt. Take a seat," the stranger spoke. His voice unfamiliar.

"My name is Assistant Director Janson. You may call me Sir." The man was seated behind a glass desk, empty except for the computer and a stack of files in front of him. He searched through them until he found the one with Newt's name. Newt took a seat across from him; certain he'd seen several of his friends' names in that pile, including Minho.

"Newt Johnson...Aged fifteen...Top of the class..." Janson spoke to himself. Newt sighed, the exhaustion clear in the expression on his face.

"Sir, what's your point?" he said.

Janson looked taken aback. "Who swallowed your manners? Don't you want to hear the good news?"

"What good news?" that captured his attention, not in a good way. He tensed and he listened to what Janson said next.

"Well, Newt, the good news is that you're leaving this place. Your latest test marks qualifies you for what we have plan-"

"What plan? Why am I leaving? Where am I going?" Newt asked.

"The place itself has no name. I assume you and the rest of them will come up with something creative," Janson replied.

"What do you mean 'the rest of them'?" Newt was fearful now.

"All of you are entering the next phase. All fifty of you."

He curled his hands into fists as he rose from the seat. _Leave? _ Immediately, Cara entered his mind. He thought of her smile, the way she laughed at him. What would happen to her if he left? He didn't want to begin to wonder what she would think.

"What if I don't want to leave?"

Janson seemed to expect an answer like that, and he turned his attention to the computer, typed in a few keys and then turned the device around for Newt to have a look. Right there in front of his eyes was footage of him and Cara, alone in the stairwell sitting close together.

He hadn't seen any cameras there. He sucked in a deep breath and drew it out slowly, clenching his hands tighter until his knuckles turned white. He was furious and he dared to lash out at the man any second. Maybe Janson was waiting for it.

It would be easier for them to take him by force with the guards still lingering on the other side of the door. Waiting for instructions. Janson studied his body language. Newt felt like he'd been slapped in the face seeing Cara on that screen.

"You care for this girl. We see it, Newt. We've seen it for a long time. What would happen if she were to disappear? Would you be more compliant then?" Janson questioned. The man had no sympathy and he seemed to almost be enjoying the miserable look on Newt's face.

In a whispery voice he cursed, "I'll kill you. If you lay one finger on her I will kill you myself" and he regretted it. Judging by the cunning smile on Janson's face, Newt reacted exactly as he wanted. He knew he had something to threaten him with. Not that Newt would have a choice. It made the process easier.

"It's not like this is a permanent thing. Newt, you may even see her again, just not any time soon. This is my way informing you that you have no choice. You leave tonight."

_Tonight? That's so soon_. There was nothing Newt could say or do. He felt weakened, lessened to that of a small child in front of this man. Begging would only make him look weaker. "There will be no need to gather your belongings. You won't need them where you're going."

"Please," Newt said, "If you know how much I care about her. Don't make me leave without saying goodbye."

Janson seemed to agree. "Of course, you may. You can even give her that kiss you've wanted to have."

Newt struggled to keep himself calm. That was going too far. He fantasized now how easy it would be to grab Janson by the collar of his white shirt, throw him around and hit him in the face. He wanted to scream until his throat was burning from his rage. Instead all he said was, "Thank you, Sir".

As he expected the two guards were stationed outside the door, and they followed close behind Newt as he entered the elevator and pressed the button that would take him to the Dormitory floor of the building. He stopped in front of Cara's room, glanced back at the two black-clad men and tapped his knuckles on the wood.

"Newt," she said, looking surprised to see him. Her stare drifted to the two men behind him, and at that Newt stepped forward, pushing her into her room and closing the door behind him.

"Newt, what's happened? The guards..."

"I have something for you," he replied, and recovered the black band from inside his pocket. He'd meant to give it to her today anyway, just not under these circumstances. He tied it around her wrist, his fingers running across the twisted pattern. "Promise me you'll always wear this. Promise me."

"I promise," she said, smiling, "It's really pretty."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her against his chest. When he wrapped his arms around her she didn't fight or try to wiggle her way out.

"I don't know if I'll ever get to do that again. Cara, I'm so sorry. I have to go."

"Its fine I'll see you tomorrow."

"You won't see me tomorrow. Or the day after that...I have to leave."

His chin rested on her shoulder as he said the words and he had to fight to keep his voice from breaking right there in front of her. She must have sensed it and she tightened her arms around his waist, her hands gripping the dark wool of his jumper. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted this to be the first of many embraces, but couldn't.

"You can't leave. Not when I've already made up my mind," she almost yelled at him. "I've made my decision. Newt, I like you and I don't want you to leave."

He broke away to look at her face. The sight of her crying crushed his heart. This time he let his voice break, let the tears roll down his cheeks as he buried his face in her hair as he sobbed. He didn't want to leave her. He'd been miserable and lonely until he met her and now he was going to lose her –no- they were going to lose each other.

_She'll be fine. She has to be fine. She'll survive on her own,_ he lied to himself. It did nothing to ease his pain.

"I...don't...want to leave you...either," he hiccupped in between the words. His salty tears soaked her blouse and her hair. He combed his fingers through her hair knowing this would be the last time he'd get to be close to her this way. He held her face between her hands.

It fit perfectly like they were two puzzle pieces that fit together. She was always meant for him. The heartache overwhelmed him and in it he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He never dreamed his first kiss would be like this; tasting of salt and water and rushed. He always imagined it to be slow and full of love and passion.

She must have felt the same way because she stopped him to wipe the tears off her cheeks. Her hands connected behind his neck as she pulled his face down to kiss him again. Just as his hands wrapped around her waist the door was slammed open. The two guards faced them.

"Alright. Time's up, kid" one of them said. Newt didn't catch who. Newt would have struggled, maybe even attacked one of them if Cara hadn't been there. But she was. He worried what would happen to her. Would she get hurt if he tried anything? He looked at her one last time. He wanted to remember her dark brown curls and the way they framed her face.

He wanted to remember her bright green eyes that could stare daggers into him when he annoyed her. He wanted to remember what her smile looked like and every other detail of her. He kissed her forehead before he was nearly dragged out of the room by the two guards.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to remember Cara, the girl he loves. He was going to lose everything. He was going to lose Cara but he was also going to lose the memory of her.

* * *

author's note: so what do you guys think? comments are really appreciated c: now things can finally get interesting.


	3. Troubles

It was earlier than usual when the Box delivered a new Greenie. Then again, it never came exactly on time. Months ago, Newt remembered every boy gathered in a circle for the first hours of daylight expecting the Box to groan as it came to life. But there was nothing. The group dissipated. Nervous chatter spread like the breeze drifting through the leaves of the trees to every boy in the Glade until eventually they had to hold a Gathering.

Newt watched from the sidelines as Alby tried to maintain peace as shouts broke up, as fear and panic rose over them all. It wasn't until later when night had fallen that the Box delivered as promised, and with it the new Greenie. Kyle was his name. He had curly brown hair and deep green eyes and a spray of freckles across his face.

He was taller than most Gladers, a bit stronger too, so Gally had taken him off the hands of Alby and made him a Builder. Newt rarely spoke to him. Until the day he killed himself.

The sun was baking him as he jogged towards the entrance to the Glade, more than thankful to be out of those concrete corridors. He dropped to his knees then continued to lie down on the soft green grass. Everything was calm, normal and he closed his eyes and savoured that short moment of peace in Hell. He was lying there for only a moment when screams broke out. It was Gally.

Newt propped himself up on his elbows, narrowed his eyes focusing on the west wall of the Glade. The ivy there was thick and stretching higher than the other walls. But like always the ivy never reached to the top. Kyle knew that and still he decided to climb.

When Newt ran over Alby was there and so were twenty other boys but mostly the Builders. "Get your shuck ass down here!" Gally yelled. Newt had never heard such rage in his voice before. Gally was trembling, either from rage or fear. Maybe both. They'd been careful, caring to stop anything like this from happening.

This time Alby spoke, "Kyle, you don't have to do this. You are strong enough to climb back down. Please. Come down to us." His words were said with kindness but even Alby couldn't hide the edge of worry in his voice. Newt looked up. Kyle had stopped climbing. He was hanging at the edge of the ivy now and he wasn't hanging on tightly. He was crying and the salty tears stained his cheeks.

From where he was standing, the Gladers must have looked so small and he could see how small the Glade really was, how small their prison was. Again, Gally shouted. "Kyle, please don't do this! Just come down! You don't have to do this!" His words fell on deaf ears. From where Kyle was up so high their voices were muted. Their mumbles drifted away like the wind.

Nobody knew what his last words were. They could see his mouth moving as to speak but they heard nothing. Newt was scared too now and he joined in the screams. It was pointless. It was like how an apple falls from the tree when it's ripe enough. Somewhere to his left a boy vomited and when he looked up from his mess his eyes were glistening with fresh tears.

There was silence first before Gally's voice echoed throughout the Glade. He was running towards Kyle and before anyone could grab him he was down on his knees beside the young boy. Newt couldn't imagine how this must feel for him. Kyle was under Gally's watch when he died. The Keeper was responsible for that kid and now he's dead. The blood was everywhere and the dirt soaked it up into its soil.

He gripped Kyle by his shoulders and shook him. Newt watched from the sidelines. He took in the blood, the lifeless eyes of the boy who was Kyle. He'd been there amongst them only four days. He had decided that four days was enough of this place.

Secretly, Newt envied him. As gruesome as his fight was, he was free of this place. That was what every single one of them wanted. Freedom. This guy had found it. For a second Newt thought he died with a smile on his face and then Gally was hugging the boy, blocking his view. It was Alby and Minho that pried Gally off the dead boy and it was Winston and three others that carried the body away into the trees.  
"I should be there. I should be there with him" Gally repeated as he was dragged towards the Homestead.

That night no Glader could sleep. Dinner was eaten quietly and no words were spoken for Kyle. No one knew him, not enough to say kind things about him. Newt turned over in his cot. He lay on his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He couldn't sleep, and instead, went outside. He sat on the grass.

The stars were out, some brighter than others and some even forming patterns when he looked closely. He knew those were constellations but he couldn't think of the names. It frustrated him. The knowing but still not knowing. He had few memories and the ones he had he kept to himself. He closed his eyes and tried to envision them. He did this every night since he first arrived in the Glade. The images used to be clearer and over time the images were distorted.

He was forgetting the names, words and faces. What he could remember was the feeling. He could remember holding hands and the static excitement it shot through him. He could remember hugging someone and how it filled him with relief and calm. He could remember a kiss and how it had filled him with gladness but also sorrow only he couldn't understand why. He tried to smile. He wondered if somewhere he has a girlfriend, and if he did, he tried to imagine what she looked like. He'd like her to be pretty with a nice smile; someone who is strong enough to handle this place, because he surely couldn't.

By the next month there was a new Greenie. Unlike before there was no joking, no laughs or smiles. No warm welcome. His name was Harry and he looked about fourteen years old. He was younger than Kyle was and this time he was met with seriousness. It scared him. Gally was harsher as he lifted the boy to get him out of the Box. Newt imagined Gally wasn't prepared to lose another Glader, especially one as young as Harry.

As soon as Newt packed in his supplies he strapped the backpack on and jogged towards the southern wall. On his way there he spotted Alby giving Harry the tour. He wanted this boy to live. They all did. Minho had offered to run with him, Newt declined. "I'll go by myself. I need to clear my head," Newt told him, his voice anxious and if Minho noticed it he said nothing. Minho didn't press further and Newt ran through the entrance.

He turned left, left again, right, and then down a long corridor to the left. He stopped every couple of minutes to jot down on a piece of paper the directions he was going in. He wasn't that far in when he spotted a Griever. Thankfully, the creature didn't spot him, giving Newt enough time to hide but not to run.

He turned a corner careful not to make too much sound. The mechanical whirr of the Griever was too close to him. He looked around, spotted the thicket of ivy along one wall and started to climb it. He was high enough that the Griever would not spot him unless he moved.

He gripped the ivy tighter as the Griever came around the corner. It moved slowly leaving a trail of slimy goop behind it. It never looked up. It only looked straight ahead until it vanished around another corner. The Griever could still be heard but it was far enough that Newt could come down and make a run for it. But he didn't.

He took this moment to catch his breath. As always, the sun was scorching him and he wished he had some sunscreen. He looked down and tensed thinking of Kyle, how he'd been in this same position only a month ago. Was this what it was like? He was curious and he leaned forward a little bit, trying to imagine what Kyle had experienced. He was alone and he was grateful but also disappointed. He didn't know if he wanted someone to stop him.

It was so easy for Kyle to let go. Surely he could do it too. He'd suffered a lot longer than Kyle had, seen more boys die and disappear, suffered the loss for longer than Kyle had. The sun was still in the sky so it would be hours before the doors closed, hours before anyone would find him.

If the doors closed with him still inside he would be killed by the next morning, unless he just did the deed now and save himself the excruciating pain the Grievers would give him. He closed his eyes, let his hands slip free of the ivy. The wind swept across his hair as he landed on his side, on his right leg. Newt screamed. He could feel the crushing pain in his right leg. He could feel it searing him inside out. He was still alive. He groaned as he dragged himself across the floor to sit against the wall.

The pain was fading now replaced by a numb feeling in his leg. He knew he wouldn't be able to walk back, not on his own. He pressed his back against the hard concrete wall and proceeded to bang the back of his head against it. His vision blurred for a moment and he assumed he was bleeding now. He began to feel drowsy and his body, covered in cuts and blue bruises, hurt so much. He gave in and he closed his eyes. He hoped he wouldn't open them again.

When he next opened his eyes he was seeing all sorts of colours. He blinked until what he saw was really the dark ceiling of the Homestead. He turned his head and to his left he saw one of the Slicers getting his hand bandaged. He moved to sit up only to have his shoulders pressed down.

"You need to rest," Alby spoke. His voice was sharp, angry almost. He lit a candle and the room was covered in a soft orange glow. Behind Alby was Minho leaning against the wall. His expression was hard and he glared at Newt. He could see Minho wanted to speak. Newt laid back down but he didn't sleep again.

"Go on, then. Say it," he taunted. Before Alby could stop him Minho unleashed his anger.

"What the hell were you thinking? I knew something was up this morning, I just knew it. If Alby hadn't gone in to find you you'd be dead right now. A three-course meal for the Grievers."

"I never asked you to bloody get my ass out of-" Newt spat.

"What the shuck were you thinking, Newt? Did you think the view was pretty from up there? Huh?"

"Both of you shut up. Stop yelling at each other. Newt you're lucky you got out alive. Unfortunately, Jeff says your leg's busted. It'll heal soon," Alby said.

"I don't give a crap about my leg or my life. You should have left me."

"What about us, Newt? What about your friends, your family? I'm not prepared to bury you, man. Don't make me do it," Minho replied.

His voice cracked and Newt looked at him. The hurt look on his face was new, something Newt had never seen before. Minho stormed out of the room. Alby stood, followed after him. "Give him time. He's pissed at you," he paused, "We all are."

Newt pulled the blankets closer around him, tried to roll onto his side only to discover a new-found pain in his leg when he moved. He resumed lying on his back and he closed his eyes. It was night-time now and he continued his routine. He tried to remember.

* * *

Cara refused to get out of bed until one morning a guard stormed in, black-clad with a firm expression on his face and a firm voice as he spoke, "Get dressed. You have a meeting this morning with the Assistant Director Janson." She grinned, sat up and resumed to throw the alarm clock on the bedside table at him.  
"I don't want to."

She was dragged down the corridors towards the elevator shaft. Her hands were cuffed and the metal dug into her wrists enough to make it bruise. She still wore her pajamas; a grey pair of pants with a grey tee shirt. The guard stopped in front of a white door.

He pushed her inside and shut the door behind her. It was an office. Inside there was another guard. Janson, wearing a white suit, looked up from his computer screen.

"Those cuffs won't be necessary. Remove them." The guard gripped both of her hands and using the key he freed her hands.

She rubbed the skin where it hurt. "Take a seat." She did, across from him. He smiled but it was a vicious, calculated smile. She knew immediately that she couldn't trust him. "You've stirred up quite a lot of trouble, Miss Peterson. Is there anything we can do you fix this?" he spoke.

"Newt," she said. "Tell me where Newt is. I'm guessing you had something to do with it." When Newt left he wasn't the only one. Classrooms were emptier and the cafeteria was quiet with the loss of both boys and girls. Cara knew something wasn't right. He stops to jot down some things in a notebook.  
"Would you like to see Newt? I think we can make that possible."

She didn't trust him but she was curious. "How?"

"From the very beginning we have told you that you are important. All of you are important here for us at WICKED. Newt is serving his purpose and he will be remembered greatly-"

"I don't care about that!" she shouted.

"Please, Cara, use your inside voice. This is very important because it's where you come in."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

Again, Janson smiled and it was that same malicious smile as if he was hiding the truth from her. It sent chills up her spine and the guard standing behind her didn't make her feel any safer. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

"What it means, Clara dear, is that we're going to send you where we sent Newt."

She wanted to smile, show that she was happy but she knew there was more than what this man was telling her.

"Why me?"

"Cara, you're what we call a Variable, it's purely study related. You'll be the first of many Variables in the Maze Trials."

"What are the Maze Trials? Is that where Newt is?"

At that moment another guard entered the room and along with the other one they grabbed her, an arm each and led her out of the office. Janson followed after them. She struggled and squirmed in their hold until one of them hit her in the stomach.

"Careful, gentlemen. We need her in her best condition for what's planned..."

"What is planned?" she managed to ask. Her torso ached and she felt like she might vomit.

"You'll find out soon enough. Take her to the medical centre. We need to get her prepped."

With that, Cara was dragged around more corners and down more corridors. _Prepped for what?_ She thought. When she reached the medical centre on the third floor she was met with a group of three doctors, each one wearing a pristine white lab coat.

She started to thrash and kick and she kicked one of the doctors. They stumbled onto the floor and at that she felt a sharp needle prick. She was guided towards a hospital bed and she tried to fight but her body was exhausted. She was scared and she tried to move when a doctor held her down. "Please...Please don't...Don't do this to me..." she mumbled as she lost consciousness.

"Everything is going to be fine," a doctor spoke as he checked her vitals and prepped her for whatever was going to happen.

"Think of happy memories. Hold onto them and keep them in your mind." Immediately she thought of Newt and she glanced down at the bracelet he'd made for her. "And remember this, Cara. Wicked is good."

* * *

Author's note: sorry for such a late update. I don't plan on abandoning this story so sorry if I scared anyone with no update on Sunday. I've been so busy dealing with the new tumblr layout and I have exams coming up next week. I will try to update again by this weekend but the following week I will not be updating because I have exams that week too. Anyway, about the story, it's just starting to get interesting right? c:


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